


Birthday Cake

by peridot_tea91



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Birthday Cake, Birthday Fluff, Dean Winchester's Birthday, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-17 03:35:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28967688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peridot_tea91/pseuds/peridot_tea91
Summary: Today is Dean’s birthday, so you decide to bake him a long-overdue surprise.This is my submission for firefly-in-darkness’ 2k Follower Challenge; my prompt was "baking a cake".
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 18
Collections: Peridot's Tumblr Challenge Fics





	Birthday Cake

Your phone buzzed loudly from the nightstand, pulling you from your slumber. Quickly turning off your alarm, you glanced at the screen and let out a quiet groan. You flipped your phone over and buried your face back into the pillow—you hated being awake so early, and the bed was so warm and comfortable. 

The soft snores coming from the warm body next to you, however, reminded you why you were awake to begin with, and so you pulled yourself away. Slowly you rolled from the bed, careful not to jostle your sleeping companion. Tiptoeing through the darkness, you grabbed your lounge shorts from the desk and quietly slipped from the room. Padding down the halls of the bunker, you made your way to the kitchen to put your plan into motion.

Everything had been timed perfectly for today. You had specifically set the alarm on your phone so that Sam would be out on his morning run and Dean would still be asleep for at least two more hours. The last thing you needed was Sam crowding the kitchen while you were trying to work, or even worse, Dean snooping about. Baking a new recipe was stressful enough, even without your two companions peeking over your shoulder.

Pulling out the ingredients that you had hidden in the back of the fridge, you set about baking the cakes—sifting flour and cocoa powder, mixing the batter, and splitting it into three, round pans. It would have been much easier to do this using box cake mix, but that just wasn’t your style. Besides, Dean Winchester was more than worth the amount of effort you were putting in.

With the three cakes in the oven, you set about making the filling for between the layers of German chocolate cake—French silk pie filling. By the time you had finished the filling and set it in the fridge to chill, the timer dinged for the cakes. After checking for doneness, you clicked off the oven and popped the cakes out of their pans onto cooling racks. Everything was right on schedule, leaving you plenty of time to put everything together and decorate the cakes once everything cooled.

There were a few moments where you had wondered if all this effort was even worth it. Dean Winchester was a man of simple pleasures—sex, cheap booze, diner food. He had never been someone who wanted to be fussed over. Then again, he had never been fussed over, to begin with. From a young age, he had been forced into the roles of protector and caregiver for Sam while being neglected himself. Growing up, he never got to enjoy celebrating birthdays and holidays, let alone home-cooked food. Hell, a store-bought pie would have even been good enough for him. 

But you weren’t satisfied with just “good enough.” Dean Winchester deserved the world, and you were determined to prove it to him any and every way you could. If that meant putting in the extra effort to bake him a (hopefully) delicious cake from scratch, then so be it. On today of all days, you wanted to show Dean just how special he was to you.

You had known the Winchesters for years, hunting with them on-and-off until maybe two or three years ago, when they asked you to move in. Things slowly just sort of fell into place, and, as of almost six months ago, you and Dean became an item. You weren’t really sure how it happened, but it did, nonetheless. You moved into his room about two months in, stubbornly not wanting to have to share a closet or a bed. Once he had finally convinced you to move in, secretly moving your stuff in bit by bit, you were so glad you did.

Dean wasn’t the type of guy to share his feelings or be overly emotional in a relationship, let alone be in a relationship. That’s part of why you had been so surprised when the two of you fell into step, fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle. Dean hadn’t said those three little words yet, which was okay. He showed you how much you meant to him in other ways, making sure you never needed to question his feelings for you. Now, you were doing the same for him.

Roughly 20 minutes had passed before you were able to finally start assembling the cake. You had bought a cake stand just for the occasion and, after spreading a small dab of the French silk pie filling, began stacking. Cake, pie filling, cake—everything stacked up rather nicely. You did have to level out the round cakes, creating an even surface for each layer to sit on. You made it a point not to skimp on the filling between each cake layer, knowing how much Dean had loved your aunt’s pie recipe. What better way to include his favorite food in a cake?

Finally, it came time to frost and decorate the outside of the cake. Glancing at the clock, you saw that you had roughly 30 minutes before Dean would be waking up, so your nerves began to bubble up slightly. Using more of the filling you made, you spread a crumb coat and topcoat around the sides and top of the cake. Then, you took out the frozen candy pieces that you had crushed the night before—chunks of Snickers, Twix, and Milky Ways—and sprinkled them all over the top.

You had just set the candles into place when you heard the tell-tale sound of Dean’s door opening down the hall. It was now or never! You began bouncing lightly, a mixture of excitement and anxiety coursing through you as you waited.

Dean shuffled into the kitchen, still half-asleep. He didn’t notice you at first as he made his way directly to the coffee pot, which you had been smart enough to turn on for him right before you started putting together the cake. You tried not to laugh as he robotically moved about, leaning against the kitchen island while you watched.

“Good morning, hun,” You greeted cheerily, finally catching his attention.

Dean hummed in acknowledgment, “Mornin’, darlin’.”

Shuffling to you, Dean took a swig from his coffee cup and smacked his lips in satisfaction. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close for a good morning kiss. He had just broken away when his eyes popped comedically wide, and he leaned to the side slightly, looking around you at the large chocolate and candy topped cake.

“Happy birthday,” you said sweetly with a smile.

“Shit, Y/N, did you make this for me?”

“No, I made it for Sam,” you sassed, “ _of course_ I made this for you! German chocolate cake with French Silk Pie frosting and topped with chocolate candy chunks.”

“Ooooohhhhh,” Dean awed at the cake and stepped around you. His green eyes lit up with a rare excitement as he stooped down and ogled at the cake. “Ya know, we don’t really celebrate birthdays, Y/N.”

“I know. But I wanted to do something special for you. You always told me how you never really got to enjoy the little things that normal people do. So, I figured, what would be better than your own birthday cake?”

Dean swiped his finger along the bottom edge of the cake, gathering a bit of makeshift frosting on his finger and popping it into his mouth. He moaned happily at the taste and nodded his head in approval before standing straight and turning back to you. Reaching out, he pulled you close and kissed you deeply, humming happily into your mouth and giving you an affectionate squeeze.

“Thank you, honey. I really appreciate it,” he said between kisses.

“You don’t need to thank me, De. I just wanted to do something special for you because you’re special to me,” you admitted softly against his lips, the two of you swaying slightly.

Dean gave your lips another peck before leaving a light trail of kisses along your cheek and burying his face in your hair. He continued to sway you both back and forth while you wrapped your arms around him. You lightly scratched your fingernails in the hair at the base of his neck, just like you knew Dean liked.

“I don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

“Shut up,” you retorted quickly, “you deserve me plenty. And it’s the least I could do because I care about you.”

Dean hummed into your hair before pulling back and looking down at you, “You’re too good to me. Please tell me I get to eat cake for breakfast.”

You couldn’t help but laugh in response, “It’s your birthday, isn’t it? But you gotta blow out your candles first.”

Dean smirked and nodded, “Alright, alright.”

You turned away from your boyfriend, lit a match, and lit the candles on the cake. Dean paused for a moment, a warm smile gracing his lips as he looked at the cake you made. Closing his eyes, he blew out the candles and opened them to you clapping happily. With a wave of his hand, Dean bowed dramatically, causing you to laugh again.

Shooing the birthday boy out of the way, you reached for the knife on the counter and began cutting. Dean remained pressed up behind you, one hand on your hip while he eagerly watched over your shoulder. You plated his piece and passed it along, earning a grin and another kiss before he shuffled off to the table to eat. You chuckled to yourself and shook your head at your boyfriend. The man was in his 40s and yet still had all the excitability of a child.

You had just turned back to cut your own slice when you felt a set of lips pressed against your temple, “Thank you for this, Y/N... I love you.”

You smiled and closed your eyes, reaching a hand up to cup his head affectionately, “I love you too. Happy Birthday, Dean.”


End file.
